After Midnight
by Ocil
Summary: You are SPADES SLICK and you stand at the end of the universe! One last look at your life couldn't hurt, right?


You are now JACK NOIR. Or is it SPADES SLICK? SCURRILOUS STRAGGLER? You lose track of who you are sometimes. And with the way things have been going, you're not really all that worried about what your name is. You thought a new name would help. You thought a new name would be a chance to start over. You messed things up back on Derse and got exiled to a barren rock.

Things seemed so different then. You changed your name and got ready to achieve what you never could back on Derse. Not as long as she had anything to with it. You took a barren desert and from it forged a mighty city. A city full of life. A city filled to the brim with politicians, thugs, and all kinds of low-lives. A city that had outstanding citizens who would do whatever was right. A city to be proud of.

And you were. You found your old buddies and formed a crew. The Midnight Crew. And you four ruled the city. You had it all. Fame and fortune were yours to do with as you pleased. You were at bent knee for no one. You were the master of your own fate.

Or so you thought.

Then they showed up. THE FELT. A gang in green ran by a mysterious lynchpin known only as LORD ENGLISH. They showed up and undermined the Midnight Crew at every turn. They stole heists out from under noses, overthrew your casino, and gave your reputation a nasty black eye.

Nothing a little brute force couldn't handle you would always say. You always said that when the time was right the Midnight Crew would do what they do best and eliminate THE FELT. With the four of you working together it would be quick, efficient, brutal, and even lucky. Heh. Come to think of it that was the four of you in a nutshell, wasn't it? You're so QUICK to lose your temper and yell, shout, scream and stab. DIAMONDS DROOG was always about being EFFICIENT, to the point of a neurosis, you're sure. And then HEARTS BOXCARS was always BRUTAL when it came to getting the job done, to the point that you always knew you couldn't count on anyone more to bring a swift end to your enemies. And lastly, CLUBS DEUCE was always so LUCKY, that one always seemed a little out of place in the Midnight Crew, but he was as much a member as anyone, and more than a few people have tasted your RAPIER WIT for suggesting otherwise.

Then the time was right. You got together and planned a raid on THE FELT Mansion. You split up and methodically eliminated THE FELT one by one. You again felt like the master of your own fate.

But it wouldn't last.

Something went wrong. With all that weird time bullshit you're really not sure what exactly happened. You're sure she's at the heart of it. That woman. SNOWMAN was the name she goes by as a member of THE FELT. You knew her before. Back on Derse. As the Black Queen, who robbed you of control. Back then you were pushing papers behind a desk because she wanted to piss you off. And it worked. But there was nothing you could do about it. You hated her. And she hated you.

You two couldn't have been more perfect for each other.

You teamed up with some idiotic kids and worked together to take her out of the picture. You destroyed her ring and got her exiled. She was out of your life forever. You were finally free from her and in control of your own life. But then before you even knew it you were exiled too. And then you built a stupid, pointless city, but you've already been over that.

And yet again she had shown up. You had been afraid that after going so long without putting up with her that your hatred would have ebbed away. And yet when you saw her again, you flared up again like she had never been gone.

A hatred that could last forever is what you two had, pure and simple.

Again, you're not sure what happened, but you tried to bust into Engish's safe. Bad move it turns out. You found yourself in a timeline where everyone's dead. All gone. Well, except one. It was just you and her. She ripped your arm off and locked you in that safe to die.

You don't die so easily though.

Time again marched on in a blur. You got out of the safe. You lost track of SNOWMAN. And you marched right up to the mansion of English's right-hand man, DOC SCRATCH, ready to give him the same treatment you had given the rest of THE FELT. But things didn't go like you'd hoped. You missed a few it turns out. Clover was still alive and he brought Quarters with him. You were staring certain death directly in the face. Quarters was gonna pump you full of lead and that was gonna be that. The end of ol' Slick.

But it wasn't the end. You were saved. By her.

You two had yet another reunion. She caught you off guard with a hateful kiss. You were surprised, but responded with one of your own. You two were perfect for each other after all. A match made in hell. Of course then Scratch seperated the two of you. And then he beat you absolutely senseless. Amidst the turmoil and pain, one thought kept finding its way into your head.

"I bet things would be different if my crew were still here."

After your beating was all said and done, you found yourself lying on the roof of a nearby building covered in your own blood staring down the barrel of Scratch's gun. You stared death in the eyes yet again. To your surprise he turned the gun around and handed it to you. You were issued a command.

Kill her.

And you again found yourself under someone else's control, denied your own fate. As if on cue, time again became that mysterious blur. You're not sure how long passed between that moment and the next, where you found her. You two stood atop a roof, she stood there, hands at her side. You stood, Scratch's gun at yours. You had no choice, but you didn't intend to make it all that easy. You would pull the trigger and nothing more. If she dodged, you wouldn't fire again. If she ran, you wouldn't follow. You didn't have it left in you at this point. You felt so hollow that even your usual fury was absent.

You just followed her command and drew the gun. Point and click. The gun went off with a bang like any other, its normalcy caught you off guard. Then again, this is that kind of town. To your surprise, the bullet hit. Shot through the heart. one shot, one kill.

And that was it, you thought. The end of everything. When SNOWMAN dies, so does the universe.

But that didn't matter to you. Even if that weren't the case it'd be over for you. Even if you hated her, she was all you had left. Your crew was gone and now so was she. You sat down and looked up at the sky. A brilliant display of lights was visible as the universe began to tear itself apart. You pulled out a bottle of whisky and took a deep swig before tossing the container across the rooftop. Like any amount of alcohol can take the edge off of the end of the universe.

And as you sit here waiting for the fireworks to end and it to all be over, you begin to think.

You think of SNOWMAN and your history together. You start out blaming her. If she had just left you be, none of this would've happened. Then you began to blame yourself. You should've fought harder and been smarter. Things could've been different. Then you knew it didn't matter what you or she did. It was always going to be this way and there was nothing either of you could've done about it. Not one. Damn. Thing.

You think of the crew that you lost. You think of how things would be if they were here. Boxcars would be yelling at you for screwing things up with her. Deuce would be trying to help you out, but he'd really just be annoying you. And Droog would already have the body disposed of and a plan to escape this whole end of the universe thing all ready to go. You four were always the masters of the world and your destinies.

But alone?

Alone you always find yourself serving someone or something.

Alone you can't do anything except wait for the end.

And that's all you have left to do. 


End file.
